


Thunder Box

by starrylizard



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Cold Open Challenge, Episode: s02e14, Gen, Hurt Riley, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25219750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylizard/pseuds/starrylizard
Summary: “Riley, do not move!”Riley nodded, frozen like a deer in headlights; she wasn’t sure if she could move right now, even if she wanted to. She was barely even breathing. “Did that just click? Please tell me that didn’t just click.”On a mission in Afghanistan, MacGyver must defuse a bomb to save Riley. Jack, acting as Overwatch, tries to keep her calm by relaying an engrossing tale of a past mission gone wrong.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Riley Davis & Angus MacGyver
Comments: 20
Kudos: 53





	Thunder Box

Title: Thunderbox

Author: Starrylizard

Fandom: MacGyver (reboot)

Tags: Gen, h/c, 2x14 tag, cold opens challenge

[SOMEWHERE IN AFGHANISTAN . . . NOT ONE OF THE GOOD PARTS.]

“Hey Jack. Riley got the information off the general’s server. Juicy stuff! Matty will be pleased. The virus is set to destroy the hard drive and we’re ready to bug out.” MacGyver peered out the door into the deserted street outside. It was a corridor of ubiquitous sand-coloured buildings in both directions. “You in position yet old man?”

Riley was only half-listening to the men banter as she packed her laptop back up, rolling the cables and snapping the lid shut. She’d worked with both men for over a year now, but this mission had been an eye-opener to say the least. Where the army camo and helmet were hot and bothersome to her, the boots far less so, MacGyver and Jack had just casually fallen back into a routine. It was almost like they’d never left this particular sand box. They were so comfortable, that Riley almost forgot a few times that they were in an active warzone and anyone they saw might try to kill them. Almost.

_“No way to talk to your overwatch, Mac. A man could take offence.”_ Jack sounded a little winded, like he’d been running.

Riley heard MacGyver chuckle as he stuck his head out a little further in an attempt to see Jack where he should be settling on the roof of a building above them and to their right.

_“Don’t stick your neck out, genius. I can’t believe what I have to work with. I taught you better than that!”_

Mac didn’t reply, just pulled his head back in and waited with a knowing expression.

_“Alright, I got you both covered. Move on out.”_

Jack’s gruff voice tried to sound annoyed, but Riley could hear the smile in it. It had been like this the entire mission. The guys were reliving old times together. Riley took a deep breath and, still in the process of stuffing her laptop into her backpack, she followed Mac out into the harsh sun.

It was this preoccupation with making sure she didn’t drop anything that may have been her undoing. As she shifted her weight onto her right foot, Riley heard a loud “click”. Her stomach dropped in fear and she froze mid-stride, just as MacGyver startled and turned quickly with a terrified expression on his face, hands up palms toward her.

“Riley, do not move!”

Riley nodded, frozen like a deer in headlights; she wasn’t sure if she could move right now, even if she wanted to. She was barely even breathing. “Did that just click? Please tell me that didn’t just click.”

_“Did she just say something clicked? Please tell me I heard that wrong, Mac?”_

“I think you just stepped on a pressure plate, Riles. Bad news, you can’t move your foot. Good news, you’ve got a fully trained bomb tech right here and as long as you don’t move . . .” MacGyver’s voice petered out as he crouched to careful sift through the sand near her feet, looking for signs of the device.

“. . . it won’t go kaboom,” Riley finished, voice shaking.

_“Riley, honey. Just stay still, I’ve watched Mac do this a thousand times and I’ve got you both covered. It’ll be fine.”_

Jack sounded so perfectly confident and Riley knew MacGyver really was the best, but she still couldn’t help it, she was starting to tremble. Fight or flight was kicking in and she couldn’t do either.

“Jack, I’m freaking out a little here. Think you could maybe provide a distraction?”

There was a slight pause on the radio and Riley could almost hear the cogs turning over in Jack’s brain; running through his apparently never-ending supply of perfect distractions that he seemed to have stocked up for any situation. When Jack’s voice returned, Riley swore she could here a grin behind it before he’d even begun speaking.

_“Did I ever tell you about the time Mac had the great idea for us to hide in a porta-potty in a Category 5 storm?”_

Mac groaned. “Really, Jack?”

Riley noted Mac’s annoyed frown was accompanied by a small grin though, as he continued to concentrate on uncovering the cluster of wires he’d found near her feet, and followed them until he came to a nearby set of clay pots. He knelt down to inspect them further, hands perfectly steady. She knew from experience that Jack’s stories were not a distraction to Mac when he was working a problem. In fact, they helped him to focus.

“Nope,” she replied with a small laugh. “I’m certain I’d remember something that ridiculous if you’d told me before.”

She turned her gaze briefly back up to the rooftop where she knew Jack to be. The sun was so bright that she could barely make him out. Nevertheless, the sunspots retained on her eyes when she looked away, blinking hard, had a comforting Jack-shaped bump to them.

She imagined Jack shifted a little, wiping the sweat from his brow before it could make its way into his eyes. His overprotective-dad-mode would be kicking in something crazy right now. Overwatch seemingly yet another word for helicopter parent at this point. Whatever instinct had stopped Riley from moving had saved their lives. And now Mac would do his thing, Jack would keep them safe and she’s never trusted two people more in her life. She would be fine. She tried to hold onto that belief, repeating the thoughts like a mantra, slowing down her breathing as best she could, eyes closed for a moment. Just breathing. As she blinked again, the slowly fading sunspots still remained and Jack’s voice, both familiar and calming, began to spin a tale in his Texan drawl.

_“Well, you see, Mac and I were on mission in this idyllic little island nation in the South Pacific. Seriously beautiful place: warm beaches, nice people, lots of palm trees. But the government suspected a local general was plotting a coup, which they couldn’t do anything about without solid evidence.”_

“So, they called in Phoenix to help?” Riley stated, letting Jack know she was listening.

_“That’s right sugar. Soon Mac and I were suited up at this fancy black tie event in the Micronesian government buildings. Looking mighty handsome I might add. . .”_

Mac snorted gently at that, but didn’t add anything. He was carefully inspecting something inside the pot he’d just opened. He flicked his swiss army knife open and used one of its many tools to poke around at whatever it was he’d found. Riley swallowed, took a deep breath and concentrated on Jack’s voice again.

_“. . . swiped a few champaign glasses and Mac used that trick he does where he clones a fingerprint with some dust and tape and . . . I’m sure you know the one.”_

Riley nodded and hummed her agreement. It was a classic MacGyver move, an oldie but a goodie when hacking the security system wasn’t practical.

_“Anyway, after some great canapes, Mac’s trick and some snooping in the back rooms, we find a scene like something out of a classic James Bond movie.”_

Jack’s voice goes full Sean Connery on that last bit, slurring up his words and Riley can’t help but chuckle.

_“These goons are literally in there shredding everything. Neeeaww!”_ Jack continues, making what Riley assumes is meant to be the sound of a shredder going at full speed. _“I mean we had everything we needed right there. I mean it was shredded in garbage bags, but that was someone else’s problem back at the Phoenix. Point is we had what we came for and so we called for ex-fill. Or at least we tried to . . .”_ Jack’s voice petered out, expectantly.

Riley didn’t keep him waiting. “Is this where the Category 5 storm comes in?”

_“Ha! You were listening to good ol’ Jack. That’s completely right, pumpkin. Ex-fill couldn’t get in because of the unexpected storm that was already starting to lash the building’s windows. And we couldn’t stay inside, because the goons had managed to trip a silent alarm when we took the room and the security cameras showed we had a lot of company on the way.”_

Riley frowned when she realised Jack was taking longer to continue the story than she expected. She glanced to her right, seeing by the way Mac’s shoulders tensed up that he had noticed too.

“Jack?” Riley asked. “Everything okay?”

_“Uh, Riley, Mac. Speaking of company . . . There’s gonna be some really loud bangs and I need you to stay still Riley. Just plant your foot. You hear me? Take a deep breath, try to stay calm and don’t move.”_

Completely opposite to Jack’s well-meant instructions, Riley felt her pulse skyrocket, her breath becoming shaky again as she clenched her hands tightly on the backpack she still clutched to her chest.

“Riles?” Mac turned to face her, asking quietly in his own way if she needed his support.

“I can do it, Mac. Keep disarming it, please.”

Riley grounded her feet and locked her knees. “I can do it,” she repeated, not sure if she was reassuring the two men currently working to save her life, herself, or both. She wanted to cover her ears, but didn’t dare shift the backpack too much in case it changed her weight.

“You’re doing great, Riles.” Mac nodded and turned back to examining the bomb that he’d now partially removed from clay pot.

_“Here it comes,”_ Jack warned.

He wasn’t kidding! The sound was sudden and loud, the first shot ringing out so unexpectedly that she surprised herself to find she hadn’t moved. The sound continued to reverberate starkly as it bounced a staccato beat off the various buildings. Three more shots followed, each just as loud, but at least she now knew what to expect. It didn’t help much, her whole body was a tense wire, her breathing suddenly much too loud under her uncomfortable helmet. Distantly, she heard herself whimper, but she held her ground through gritted teeth and she did not move.

_“Mac? I don’t mean to rush you, man, but if you could possibly get a wriggle on? There’s no way that went unnoticed._

Riley heard the distinct sound of Jack reloading and braced for another shot that didn’t come.

_“Doing great, Riley. Can you slow your breathing down for me? Nice and slow, just follow my lead okay.”_

Riley tried to do as Jack asked, for once not annoyed she could hear his breathing heavy through her comms. She shakily inhaled a long breath, held it, let it out just as shakily.

_“It was Mac’s idea, in case you were wondering, to get into the porta-potty.”_

Jack quietly continued the story. His voice subdued, perhaps in an attempt not to be heard by anyone nearby, or perhaps because he somehow knew Riley’s own hearing was now on overdrive. Adrenaline had rushing into her system with no outlet, not even the ability to move, and it left her feeling sick and shaky.

“Not one of my best ideas, granted,” Mac agreed quietly.

It was said with a level of nonchalant honesty that was unusual for Mac when it came to admitting mistakes. Riley could only assume they’d had this conversation before.

_“We used a rope made of computer cables to slide out the windows off the balcony, and the wind and rain outside was like nothing else. We couldn’t even hear each other, could barely see. But there was construction going on, some sort of renovation work on the far side of the building, and that’s where Mac spied the Porta-potty. It was barely big enough for two grown men, but at least for a moment we were out of the wind and rain.”_

Riley took a deep breath and suddenly realised she could breathe much more freely again. She was shaking a bit less. The calm chatter once again doing the trick without her even realising.

_“Then the storm picked us up. That porta-potty was suddenly rolling. And I don’t mean a gentle roll, I mean banging, bumping, and I’m pretty sure we got air so high we might have even tumbled over a few cliffs or something! I’m there trying my best to hold the toilet seat closed, while Mac’s talking about number one’s and number two’s, explaining portable toilet facts about light weight polar bears and porta-potty structural design.”_

Riley snorted, looking across to Mac as he muttered, “Lightweight polymers, Jack. And I didn’t see you coming up with a better idea.”

_“Mac?”_ Jack’s voice was suddenly all business again. _“I need you to be done, Mac. We’ve got a lot more company coming your way.”_

Riley felt her calm evaporate, looking down to where her tired leg had yet to move from the trigger.

“I need another five minutes to completely disarm it, Jack. There’s a secondary trigger under here.” Mac’s hands were moving faster, but Riley knew it was a losing battle.

_“What happens if you don’t ‘completely’ disarm it?”_ Jack had clearly picked up on a turn of phrase he hadn’t heard Mac use before.

“It’s not a big device, with the primary trigger disabled, we’d have about three seconds to run like hell before it goes off. It should be enough time to escape the main blast zone.”

_“I don’t like it, Mac, but I think you’ll have to take that option. Bad guys coming in hot. More shots coming Riley. Move exactly when Mac says alright? You can do it.”_

Riley felt like the world was moving so fast she could barely keep up, yet everything had suddenly slowed at the same time. Mac was suddenly at her side, his hand slipping into hers, squeezing reassuringly.

“On the count of three we run, okay?” 

Riley nodded, took a breath, set her feet. “One. Two. THREE.”

She didn’t remember moving, but her legs were pumping and it suddenly seemed between one breath and the next they were much further down the dirt road, several more houses away from the clay pots and their terrible contents. The explosion, when it came, still knocked her off her feet. She was aware of losing the solid contact of Mac’s hand, there was a wave of hot air, and then the trembling ground rushed up to meet her.

“Riles? Riles!”

Her ears were ringing, Mac’s voice though urgent sounded so distant, but when she forced her eyes open, he was leaning over her, concern written in every feature.

“Can you get up? We have to keep moving.”

“I think so.” Riles nodded, blinking in an attempt to get her bearings again as she felt Mac pull her to her feet in one swift, nauseating motion.

Mac wrapped his arm around her waist, strong and steady, and she put all her energy into not slowing him down. Watching her own feet, one step after the other in time with his. She had every confidence he knew where they were going. She’d lost her earpiece, but she could still hear Mac breathlessly updating Jack as they ran. Their progress for a while was punctuated by the steady cadence of Jack’s rifle. One shot, then another. Each one no doubt finding its mark.

Then Jack was running with them, rifle strapped to his back and handgun drawn. At the end of the street they hit the outside of the town, spending precious moments with their backs against the wall as the chopper swooped into view. The ex-fill team keeping up cover fire as they were running one final time.

Inside the helicopter, mashed solidly between Jack and Mac, Riley curled in on herself. Jack tucked her carefully under his arm, gently undid her helmet and planted a kiss atop her hair. “You did good, kiddo,” he whispered. And she let the world go dark.

*** ***

Riley woke to a splitting headache, cool comfortable sheets, a loud crunching sound and Mac’s voice sniping at Jack not to chew so loudly.

She grumbled, squinting her eyes open warily to find, even though the lighting was turned carefully down low, it still felt like knives smashing into her brain. She slammed her eyes shut again.

Mac and Jack fell quiet. Someone squeezed her hand. From the calloused thumb that stroked her own, she guessed it was Jack.

“Riley, honey. You back with us?” Jack’s voice was carefully soft. “Gave us a bit of a scare, but doc says it’s just a concussion.” There was a familiarity in the words, like Jack had said them to her quite a few times before. Maybe he had. A concussion explained that and the splitting headache too.

Riley licked her lips and swallowed dryly. “Did you get a concussion too?”

“No, we’re okay, Riley. Bit sunburnt and bruised is all. Ears still ringing.” Mac’s voice.

“But we’ve both been there. Know the feeling too well.” Jack’s voice.

Jack’s thumb continued making soothing circles in her hand. She carefully opened her eyes again, this time to find both men leaning forward into her space a little, matching looks of relief in their very different, but all too familiar eyes. She blinked, her own eyes again closed again and settled back on the pillow.

“We’re back at Phoenix?”

“Yup,” Jack confirmed.

“Hmm. Did you get a concussion in the porta-potty mission?” Riley smiled slightly, hoping Jack would take the hint and quietly continue the story. Now that she was safely back, but clearly not in any shape to read a computer screen, Jack’s tales sounded like a good escape from reality and she was curious to know how this one ended.

“I guess we don’t need to ask you how much you remember, then.” She could hear Jack smiling. “I did get a mild concussion. Mac fractured his wrist. But overall, we were pretty lucky,” Jack launched back into the tale without any real preamble.

“We bounced around in that thing for a good ten minutes, and then we just rolled to a sudden stop. We couldn’t get the door open though. The storm was still raging on and the wind kept the potty, with us inside it, firmly pressed up against something solid. As fate would have it, the thing we were pressed in to was on the side the door was on. We were just stuck there for hours.”

“Hours?” Riley asked, as a wide yawn cracked her face open.

“Maybe we should leave you to rest, Riles?” Mac’s voice, his hand came to rest gently on the arm Jack hadn’t claimed.

“N’aw, I’m listening,” she mumbled. Though she found she really was pretty sleepy, maybe they’d given her the good drugs.

“Yeah, hours,” Jack continued quietly. “Luckily it was a solid in design as Mac suggested and we had our own facilities in there.”

Riley cracked her eyes open, incredulously at that. “Jack, you didn’t!”

“Oh, he did,” Mac sighed. Riley was amused to see an expression of disgust cross his face to back up the claim, before, with an amused snort, she let her eyes droop shut again.

“So, how did you get free?”

“The wind finally let up, and we both ran at the sides until the porta-potty rolled over, so we could open the door. Course turned out we were on a bit of a slope, so it was more of a ride than intended . . . again. Once the storm cleared, ex-fill made it through.”

“One of them took photos,” Mac griped, sadly.

“We were still in tuxedos, covered in toilet chemical (very lucky the portable wasn’t yet in use, so it was just that horrible blue chemical, nothing else), both of us bumped and bruised and dazed. Mac, you were even bleeding from that gash over your eye, remember?” Jack chuckled. “What a ride! I was just happy not to die in a porta-potty. That would’ve been a hell of an obituary.”

Mac made a grumpy noise, that sounded like agreement. “I’ve appreciated showers before, but never to that extent.

“Oh yeah,” Jack sighed. “That was the best shower. And your hair Mac, that blue stuff just didn’t come out for weeks. Never been so glad to have dark hair . . .” Jack chuckled heartily at that. Mac grumbling again.

As Jack and Mac’s post-mission lullaby banter continued, their warm hands resting in hers, Riley found she slipped back into a peaceful sleep.

END.

**Author's Note:**

> I love any comments (even constructive criticism if you want to). I mostly use Australian English grammar/spelling. Not beta-ed. Haven't got one, sadly. Let me know if you notice even more typos and I'll edit. Just careening in and sliding under the challenge door on the last posting day, as you do.  
> I had so much fun writing this one! Thank you for reading!


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